Tonight was Luke’s party. Not funeral, not memorial, not celebration of life….his party. He made us all promise that when he died he wouldn’t have people stand around in black and sob over him. So naturally, we stood around in black and sobbed over him…but with alcohol! Sorry, honey, there weren’t many dry eyes in the house.
I’m always amazed at the way people rally in times of crisis and tragedy, especially when you are on the receiving end. I kept hearing from friends, family, and complete strangers how strong I was for doing what I was doing. It’s a wonderful gesture, but truthfully, just putting on my two layers of waterproof mascara (thanks, niece) was about the only strong thing about me tonight.
I’m humbled by the sheer amount of people that showed up to support Luke, our family, and myself. It was out of this world, not that I’d expect anything less from my incredibly social husband. Everyone who knew Luke had a story with him involved, and chances are, he made you laugh and possibly make a bad decision or two. He had a “lose your inhibitions” effect on people. It was inspiring. I fell so madly in love with him, and it was due to that exact thing. He let me feel happy and free without any of the guilt. He encouraged nothing but joy.
Special shoutout to his siblings, who somehow managed to give actual speeches on their brother. How words came out in that fashion? I’m amazed and honored. Their words could’ve doubled Kleenex sales in 10 minutes alone.
“If you need anything, let me know.”
I’ll sound the grief trumpets when I figure that out. Until then, thanks for all the hugs, and thanks for showing up for him.